


272. death valley

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [113]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 18:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8337448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: It's not that Sarah is bothered that the demon is whistling "Call Me Maybe," it's just that she's confused where an unholy creature of the pit learns pop music.





	

Sarah’s flashlight beam skitters off the walls, shaking along with her hands as the two of them walk deeper into the warehouse. She keeps hearing something groan-growling, long and pained and low like some distorted whalesong. It’s terrifying.

Next to Sarah the demon she summoned is whistling. It sounds like “Call Me Maybe.” That is also terrifying.

“Can you quit it?!” she hisses under her breath, and the demon stops obligingly. Helena. That’s her name. Or, something like _Hlllny’apflytanhllly’p_ , but Helena will do. Sarah cut her palm open over the circle and asked for someone, anyone to help her find her daughter. And there was something-like-Helena, standing in the middle of the circle and looking very small and alarmingly fluffy. And here they are.

“We’re getting closer,” says Helena calmly. Her hands are tucked in the pockets of the big green parka she appeared wearing. “I can hear her heartbeat.”

“Great,” Sarah says faintly. “That’s – bloody delightful, that is.”

“I can also hear other things,” Helena muses. “Angry things. Hungry things. Big angry hungry things.”

Sarah says a word that is decidedly less kind than _great_.

“It will be okay, Sarah,” says Helena warmly. “I am very good at killing angry hungry things.”

“You’re, like, five feet tall,” Sarah says. “No offense. _I_ could take you.”

Helena laughs, a spiteful little giggle. “Okay, Sarah,” she says. “If you say—” and abruptly her posture sharpens, like a hunting hound that’s found a scent. “Shh,” she hisses. Something grows out of the dark, groaning – a collection of mouths and eyes, all of them blinking. They shift and morph and Sarah can’t tell them apart. There is something wrong with it, something that breaks the laws of the world; it physically hurts to look at it. Sarah’s eyes burn, like staring into the sun.

“What the hell is that,” she says.

“Family,” Helena says. “Close your eyes, please.”

Sarah does. There is a sound like every piece of paper in the world being ripped at once and then the whole world becomes screams, and – Sarah is standing there in the middle of a warehouse with her eyes closed, like an idiot. She should open them. But she’s read enough stories to know that is the _shittiest_ idea.

Eventually the screaming stops and all that’s left is the sound of something breathing, hot wet breaths, water boiling and a tongue rasping along knucklebones and other sounds Sarah doesn’t even want to think about. Then that stops too.

“Open!” says Helena. Sarah opens her eyes. Helena is contentedly sucking blood off of her fingers, looking like a pleased kitten with a saucer of milk.

“Okay, Sarah,” she says. “We can keep going now.”

“What—” Sarah tries, and then “Who—” and a very impassioned “ _How—_ ” and then she gives up and keeps going. Helena falls into step alongside her. Something under Sarah’s boot makes a terrible _squelch_ sound when she steps on it; she doesn’t look down.

“Thanks,” she says dazedly.

Helena shrugs; her finger emerges from her mouth with a sharp _pop_ of a sound. “You own me,” she says. “Blood and bone.” She leans in close, close enough for Sarah to smell her – sour milk evaporating off the hot front hood of a car. “Otherwise,” she whispers, “I would eat you.” She leans back, grins at Sarah like they’re sharing a fun little secret. Sarah’s brain is occupied with fear – the old kind of fear, the fear of something with too many teeth lurking in the dark and waiting to eat you up.

They head towards the rusty-looking staircase in the back of the warehouse. Helena starts whistling, again; Sarah doesn’t stop her. _Hey! I just met you / and this is crazy—_ and Helena makes eye contact with her partway through a passionate whistling of the chorus and _winks_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed!


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